The dour pundits on television would have you believe that the student riots across France are an economic protest. But shut your econ textbooks for a moment and, instead, tune in to French popular music.

It's all about the past. Edith Piaf's rich, deep voice and trilled r's crooned "Non, je ne regrette rien" ("No, I don't regret anything") back in 1960. As a child in elementary school in Paris, I never had to learn the French national anthem, "The Marseillaise." Instead, my classmates and I sang classic French songs from the 1960s, reminiscing about lost loves and youth, about what could have been or would never be. Never mind that we were 8 years old and had lost neither love nor youth.

Even the French oldies station on the radio is called Nostalgie, or nostalgia.

Compare that to today's American pop music, with Kanye West jamming out, "I ain't sayin' she a gold digger," and Fergie from the Black Eyed Peas singing about her lovely lady lumps. Where's the nostalgia there?

Common stereotypes of France include a mustached man playing an accordion, a beautiful woman inhaling cigarette smoke as she awaits her lover or a group of friends lounging at a café over a bottle of wine, bread and cheese. All of these images reflect France's love affair with things past, with the good old days, even though it's never been clear exactly when the good old days were.

France is, after all, a land with a long history. Americans have been known to fall in love with France for the very reason that its allegiance to the past runs counter to the American penchant for the present. Likewise, the French love to visit the United States because it's so fast-paced and focused on immediacy. While Claude François lamented a love affair gone sour, Marvin Gaye sang "Let's Get It On."

Experts analyzing the riots over the CPE labor law assume all the protesters are acting rationally and have a deep understanding of the economic implications of the law. But maybe there's a cultural element at play, a kind of gut reaction against change — an irrational nostalgia.

"Oh, these French," sighed a very proper, elderly French passenger on my flight from Paris to Chicago last month. "You try to change anything and they all take to the streets!"

She might be on to something. By American standards, the CPE is hardly a drastic conservative measure. It would extend the trial period of new employees under age 26 to two years, during which time they could be let go without a stated reason. France's Prime Minister Dominique de Villepin argued this would encourage employers to hire more young people, which would counteract France's absurdly high unemployment rate — nearly 25 percent among young workers.

Students in France — feeling singled out in a country that prides itself on its strong social programs and employee-protection laws — have taken full advantage of their right to strike. This Tuesday, the riots were as strong as ever, and even the Eiffel Tower was closed, as it was during the March 28 protests.

The riots have interfered with classes at most universities, and some public-transportation workers and airport employees have joined the strikes in a display of the solidarity France holds so dear. But the students on the French news broadcasts are beginning to look more like soccer fans at the World Cup than people seriously interested in debating liberal economics.

Few of my friends in Madison who are renting caps and gowns and preparing to join the working world expect immediate job stability following graduation. It's more "get a job, sha na na na" than anything else. If the students protesting the CPE at Place d'Italie looked around the world, they'd see they don't have it so tough. But that's assuming the riots are entirely rational.

French films wouldn't be French without complicated sexual liaisons and infidelities, and French music wouldn't be French without nostalgia. France itself, in fact, wouldn't be France if people didn't periodically take to the streets and protest.

Leave the economic pontificating to the pundits. It might not be la vie en rose for M. de Villepin right now, but it's all so … French.

Cynthia Martens ([email protected]) is a senior majoring in Italian and European studies.